


Cold Feet

by runningondreams



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Naked Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningondreams/pseuds/runningondreams
Summary: Steve hogs the blankets.





	Cold Feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justanotherpipedream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherpipedream/gifts).



> Written for justanotherpipedream, who requested established relationship and fluff in the 2018 Fandom_Stocking event. I hope this is fluffy enough for you!
> 
> * * *

Tony wakes up cold. He has _goosebumps_. He’s naked, and he never sleeps naked, and his bed is the wrong shape, and the _shadows_ are the wrong shape and--oh. This is _Steve’s_ room. And Steve’s bed. And he’s naked because--because he hadn’t felt like putting his underwear back on after, and Steve had hooked one strong arm around his waist and asked him to stay.

Steve, who has weird rules in his head about dates and kissing and sex that Tony doesn’t totally understand yet, but who still _did_ take him out to dinner, and kiss him in the kitchen, and invite him to bed.

Steve, who is very definitely _hogging all the blankets_. All the sheets too. Tony can hardly even see him for the cocoon of fabric he’s wrapped around himself. He tugs at the nearest bit, but it’s no use. Both edges are firmly anchored under Steve’s perfectly muscled and incredibly _heavy_ supersoldier shoulders. 

He looks really relaxed, actually. Tony’s never really seen him asleep before. He looks . . . peaceful. Like he’s exactly where he wants to be. Tony wonders whether he himself ever looks like that. Probably not. He’s not good at _being_ , he’s good at _doing_.

For a very brief moment Tony considers putting on his clothes and retreating to his own bed, with his deliciously warm duvet and his 800 thread count sheets and his special ergonomic pillows. But that would involve _getting up_ and putting on slacks and a shirt that are probably even colder than the bed he’s currently on, and then _walking through the halls_. Natasha was out there. And she had cameras. He wouldn’t put it past Clint to be staking out the door, either. Probably with some kind of joke arrow that would do something embarrassing like play recorded fake kissing noises at him until he could figure out how to turn it off. And in the morning he’d have to deal with Steve’s disappointed look, or worse, his total lack of a disappointed look as Tony tried to explain. No thanks.

“Steve.”

He pokes Steve’s shoulder. No response. He tries again, a little louder.

“Steve.” He tugs on the blankets, hauling Steve slowly over onto his side. It’s much more difficult without the armor or Steve’s active help. Like the serum filled his bones up with metal or something, and hey, there’s an idea. Is that even possible without heavy metal poisoning? Something to investigate. 

Steve frowns in his sleep. “Hm?”

“I need some blankets,” Tony tells him, still tugging.

“Tony?” Steve blinks at him. It’s unexpectedly cute. Tony smiles, despite the fact that he’s going to start actually shivering at any moment, he’s certain.

“Blankets, Steve. It’s freezing out here.”

“Oh.” And just like that, Steve’s fully awake and untangling himself, spreading sheets and blankets over Tony and cuddling close.

“Sorry about that” he says, with warm breath on Tony’s neck as he wraps one warm arm over Tony’s torso and presses his broad, warm palm to Tony’s chest. “Better?”

“Much,” Tony agrees. He resists just melting into Steve for a grand total of ten seconds. Steve hisses as Tony’s feet find his legs and slip back to press against his calves, but he doesn’t pull away. 

It’s a bit like being cuddled by a giant hot water bottle. There are muscles in his back that he didn’t even know were tense that are relaxing.

“Much, much better,” he says on the trail of a whisper, as he slips back into sleep.


End file.
